


Exile

by grimeysociety



Series: Hollywood [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hollywood, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kid Fic, POV Bucky Barnes, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25199611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: (n.) the state or a period of forced absence from one's country or home. The state or a period of voluntary absence from one's country or home. A person who is in exile.Bucky's stint in hospital after a suicide attempt.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis
Series: Hollywood [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1437178
Comments: 16
Kudos: 55
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	Exile

**Author's Note:**

> It's whump time. I poured my heart into this one and I hope you can indulge me once again in my little universe. **There are references, open discussions and descriptions of suicide and self-harm throughout this story** , so please keep your triggers in mind if you're willing to read this. 
> 
> I managed to get a Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020 square out of this, too, specifically "Y4: Exile".
> 
> This takes place during the couple final chapters of Brooklyn Baby. 
> 
> I also have no idea if I'll ever get over this Bucky. He has a mind of his own and I love him with all my soul.

  
_Well, so tired of being so tired_   
_Why I gotta build something beautiful just to go set it on fire?_   
_I'm no liar, but sometimes the truth don't sound like the truth_   
_Maybe 'cause it ain't, I just love the way it sound when I say it_   
_Yeah, so what I do?_   
_If you know me, it ain't anything new_   
**\- "Good News" by Mac Miller**

The fragments of consciousness came in sounds and sensations. His awareness grew like the slow ascent of volume coming through a radio speaker.

The connection itself was fuzzy at best, muffled and hard to decipher among the overwhelming weight of his own skeleton.

The world was dripping back in, and he could feel his whole self was bruised, weighed down, and his head lulled to the side as he sighed. He felt someone touch him, and he recognized it was Darcy instantly by the scent of her alone, and then there was a press of her lips to his crown and he swallowed, unable to open his eyes.

“I… I can’t move,” he whispered, and Darcy hummed her sympathy, but she didn’t know he meant his body – he was trapped inside his body, he couldn’t reach out of it, burst through the ceiling…

It finally hit him, that it wasn’t a dream, when he noticed the constant beeping of the machine beside him, the sound increasing in tempo when reality struck him deep in his chest, right to the bone, and he gave a soft moan, knowing where he was…

“Sleep, Bucky,” Darcy whispered, and he couldn’t fight it, the heaviness of being awake…

-

It was cruel, his pulse. Constant, automatic, haunting him as he tried to disappear into the darkness every time his mind resurfaced again.

He caught glimpses of voices, of hands reaching for him. He heard Steve and Darcy and his stomach twisted, his imagination stretching something again and again. He thought of the two of them joined at the hands, then turning into each other to be held and then kissed, and how Steve would do her a world of good…

And then he’d feel such intense shame for his jealousy, but he couldn’t cry, like he’d run out of tears, or maybe he was saving them up, but he knew it was unrealistic – they’d never do that to him, and Steve had a boyfriend –

The boyfriend he probably didn’t want Bucky to meet, because Bucky could be such a grumpy asshole when he was depressed.

He remembered the stark white of Strange’s bathroom, and how he’d gone through the cabinet, uncapping bottles he found inside, seeing the familiar, tried and true Xanax he trusted more than most things in his life.

He longed for the dark again, where he could rest alone…

-

He managed to lean on his elbows in the semi-dark sometime later, and he grunted with gritted teeth, eyes rolling over to the side where he knew Darcy was.

She was fast asleep, curled on her side, her head on Steve’s shoulder as his arm was wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her tucked into him.

Bucky’s eyes smarted and he swallowed, shifting a little more, trying to see if he could move his legs. He didn’t manage to sit up in time, a nurse coming in with her smile flashing at him.

“Mister Barnes –”

“I wanna smoke,” he grunted, not wanting her to wish him well, since he deservedly felt like shit.

He heard Steve draw in a breath and wake up, Darcy doing the same. The nurse moved to switch on a light above his head and Bucky shut his eyes, the brightness overpowering his vision for several seconds. He didn’t look at either Steve or Darcy, knowing if he did he’d probably not be able to move again.

“Baby, I’ll go with you,” he heard Darcy say after she yawned.

He was able to stand, leaning on Steve, feeling the familiar weight of him steadying him as Darcy fished out a pack of cigarettes from a bag with a lighter, and Bucky was reaching for them, breaking away.

“We’ll have to go with Lenny,” Darcy murmured, her hand on his elbow to steer him toward the door as he put the unlit cigarette between his lips already.

He didn’t know a Lenny. He turned out to be a muscly white guy with cropped red hair and a diamond stud in one ear, standing at nearly seven feet tall. Bucky frowned at him slightly, his eyes running up and down him as Darcy gave the stranger a little smile.

Bucky didn’t say a word as they were walked out to a little courtyard overlooking the parking lot, a designated smoking area. He could hear the outside world better, saw that it was before dawn. He took a couple turns to light the cigarette but got there eventually, taking a deep drag as he glanced down at Lenny’s hands. They were twice the size of Darcy’s, easily.

He knew then why he was being babysat. They were on a high ledge. It was smart, he supposed, since he had already thought about how easy it would be to just slip over the edge by accident. Doing it deliberately, maybe fate would break his break, but not smash his head open. Lenny would manage to press him down or peel him off the ledge if he made a break for it. Darcy alone couldn’t.

He got angry, then, just a little flare, since Darcy was onto him. It didn’t matter what his choice was, she wasn’t going to let him decide shit.

He smoked two cigarettes before pushing past Lenny, Darcy’s hand slipping into his. He could feel himself pushing her away, not really feeling her skin against his. He hadn’t felt this way before toward her, feeling betrayed, feeling alienated by her trying to control him.

“You think we could go somewhere, maybe tomorrow? If the doctors say you’re well enough?” Darcy asked, her voice soft.

He hadn’t looked her in the eye this entire time and decided not to then, clearing his throat, feeling the nicotine begin to work its way through his blood, the brief calm it brought so welcoming. He didn’t give her a proper answer, shrugging.

He was silent, trying to block everything out when he returned to his bed, his IV back in, his vitals checked. Steve had turned on the TV while they were out and _The Wizard of Oz_ was playing on the tiny screen, halfway up the wall opposite his bed.

The first person to try to shame him was a nurse with blonde hair that snapped gum in his face, bending over him when Darcy was out to get coffee and Steve was reading something on his laptop in the chair next to the bed.

“I hope you’re thinking of your little girl,” she murmured, and Bucky blinked at her, realizing he hadn’t imagined it. “I mean, think about the people who’ve been there, your family –”

“I _was_ thinking about my family,” Bucky retorted, and he heard Steve stop typing, glancing up.

“That’s enough,” he said, and the nurse shut her mouth, chewing rapidly.

She went a little pink, probably because she expected Steve to back her up, when he was instead glaring at her. Bucky watched as she pieced herself back together, perhaps contemplating being fired for what just took place. Strangely, it was even a little amusing to Bucky that this stranger with the best of intentions had the audacity to believe her words would have any weight.

“Your blood oxygen is perfect,” she murmured. “And you smoke a pack a day?”

“Sometimes two,” Bucky replied.

She was probably thinking about what a perfectly good waste of a body he was, trying to damage it beyond repair. He knew he’d put on muscle in the last several weeks, too. He watched her leave, hearing Steve sigh when she left, and saw him shake his head in the corner of his vision.

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s okay,” Bucky said.

He didn’t want to dwell on it. By this time tomorrow, he was meant to be on his way to Nevada where Darcy had already managed to get him an extended stay at a mental health facility. He didn’t want to go, but he hadn’t expressed that. He hadn’t said a word about any of it when he received the news.

He was going where he belonged, among the crazies, for acting like a spoiled brat. He sunk lower into his bed, his eyes on the TV and he began to unfocus, waiting to hear Steve return to his work.

-

He only ate when prompted, but still smoked like a chimney, probably irritating Lenny for the amount of time he spent dragging him out to the little space above the parking lot. At one point, Bucky leaned over to spit, watching the glob fall until he couldn’t see it anymore.

He looked at Lenny in the eye.

“I’ll give you a million dollars if you let me walk out.”

Lenny blinked at him, not reacting. He was like one of those stone-faced guards outside of Buckingham Palace. Bucky thought about getting right up in his face, yelling until he was hoarse, which wouldn’t take much. He was worn out so easily those days.

“You know I’m good for it,” he added. “If Darce’s already paid you so far, you know there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Lenny let out a soft tut.

“Sir, I’m not hired by you. I work for your wife,” he said. “And you’re not going anywhere alone.”

Bucky took out another cigarette and put it to his lips, cupping the flame to light it, snapping his lighter shut. He blew a long plume of smoke out of his nose.

“Don’t get any big ideas, they ain’t gonna happen.”

“Yeah,” Bucky rasped, nodding.

“’Cause from what I’ve heard, you’re not doing your best, no matter how strong you think you are.”

Bucky nodded again, looking away. He wasn’t going to try the guy, by throwing his weight around or by abusing him. He was just doing his job, and it was a shitty job to do.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, but Lenny didn’t seem too troubled.

-

He was still dragging his feet a little, no matter how stable he tried to be when he shuffled out of the room with Darcy’s arm fed through his, steering him down the hall.

They took an elevator the cleaners used and then a back passage, Lenny leading the way with Steve behind them. Bucky thought of the crowds, the people who would want to ask him about it all, how he was doing, how he got there.

He couldn’t stand the possibility of that and began to tremble, even after they were safe and speeding away down a side street and then out into the open air.

He didn’t say a word for hours, and managed to sleep, up until he was admitted to the next place in the desert. It was an exile, this far out from L.A., but it made sense. He probably wasn’t safe from RKB if he stayed in California.

He wasn’t being told everything. He saw Darcy taking phone calls but she didn’t include him, she was shielding him from the wolves, which was so wrong in itself that it made his chest ache. Except he still didn’t touch her unless she touched him. They hadn’t been alone to speak, for him to explain everything to her.

Not that he really knew what to say. It was all so futile, trying to get anyone to understand. Everyone wanted him around, but no-one had given him the chance to plead his case.

There were wide spaces, tall walls and marble pillars. It was like a spa resort, not a madhouse. It was eerie to Bucky, just how calm everyone seemed to be. It made him want to break a window and crawl out.

Steve left them at the front desk, saying he’d come by tomorrow, and every day after. Bucky felt a distinct panic, at the endlessness that seemed to inspire in the situation. He could be stuck here for God knows how long, staring at the wall…

Steve gave him a hug he didn’t return, his arms staying at his sides. Steve said something about meeting Darcy later, at a house they were renting.

The long haul, everything stretching out on and on, no horizon.

He was walked into a room and he looked around and began to shiver.

“This is nice,” Darcy said. “Plenty of room.”

“How long I gotta be here?” he grunted, and Darcy’s lips parted in surprise, her frown forming between her eyebrows.

She was pushing something back, she was censoring herself. He could sense it in how she pieced herself back together, her hands coming up to either side of his face.

“As long as you need,” she said. “Okay? There’s no rush.”

Her eyes were scanning his face, probably trying to find someone who wasn’t there anymore, because he wasn’t being the man he used to be. He’d obliterated that man.

“We’re only a couple miles away, but I have to go,” she murmured, and he nodded, shaking some more. “You’ll go to sleep now, okay? Have a sleep.”

He glanced over at the bed, which seemed nice enough, but it was big enough for the two of them. Darcy looked over at it with him, and shook her head.

“I can’t stay, baby. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Her eyes met someone else’s behind him and Bucky turned around, seeing a nurse in the doorway, a Latino guy covered in tattoos with another man behind him, equally capable. Bucky was sick with panic.

“It’s okay, Mister Barnes,” one of them said, the shorter man that stepped out from behind the first one. “We’ll get you ready for the night.”

Darcy peeled away and he reached for her again.

“No, Darcy…”

“Bucky, I have to go,” she said, her voice wobbling, and then she was crying. “I love you, I’ll be back tomorrow.”

She slipped out of the room and he was blocked instantly, the nurse placing a hand on his chest.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No, you can’t – she’s my wife, you can’t keep me in here –”

“Sir, we asked her to leave because she can’t stay here with you if we’re looking after you…”

Bucky could feel his body going numb and he stepped back, glancing over at the window that was shut on the other side of the room. He stalked over to it, fingers scrambling as he could get the latch to budge.

“Sir –”

There were arms on his, pulling him away, and he began to struggle.

“No, please – please – let me go, lemme go,” he gasped. “I’ll be good, just lemme go, lemme go, lemme go, _lemme go -!”_

He was turned around, and he tried to put up his hands in defense.

“Please, please –”

“Sir, we have to keep you safe, so we need to give you a sedative –”

There were four men now, all fighting with him and pulling him down. He thrashed and yelled, roared and cried out, trying to find what he could to fight back, sure that he was catching his nails on skin and breaking it, his teeth gnashing –

He was shoved into another room and he heard the distinct click of a lock and he pounded on it with a fist, not able to hear the outside. He was panting, sweat on his brow, and he was backing away from the door, until he met the wall with a soft thud.

He noticed his boots were gone, and his belt.

He tried to think of the right words, of some plan he could formulate. All he had to do was explain that he wasn’t ready to see Darcy go, and they should call her back, and then he’d be able to tell her he was sorry.

He rose to his feet, trying to move in a calmer way to the door and tried for the handle. He knocked, softer than before.

“Hello? Please, can I see someone? Please,” he called. “Please?”

There was no reply and he sucked in a breath to steady himself, feeling light-headed. He jumped back a minute later when there was the sound of keys and the door opened again, two men in the doorway.

“Mister Barnes, we need to give you something to sleep.”

“I don’t want it,” he said instantly. He saw the little pill in a paper cup with the water beside it. He tried to find the magic words. “I don’t – I don’t consent to that.”

“It’ll help,” said the Latino nurse, with attempted warmth that Bucky didn’t like. “Or you’ll be up all night.”

He was so alone, and longed for the darkness, so maybe a pill was what he needed. He didn’t see any better idea, so he snatched it and swallowed it dry, stepping back.

“Mister Barnes, we can’t have you attacking staff –”

“I wasn’t, they grabbed me.”

“You were trying to open the window to escape,” said the other nurse. “You’re in no condition to be leaving voluntarily, at least not today.”

“Okay,” he found himself saying. “Can I – Can I get a cigarette, I’m dyin’ here –”

“Later when you’ve rested a while,” said the shorter guard. “You need the bathroom?”

“I guess so,” he said.

He was taken out of the room and down a hallway. He heard yelling and startled at the sound, but the Latino nurse gently steered him on by a gloved hand on his shoulder.

Bucky went into the little suite in his room, tried to close the door but was stopped by a shoe blocking it, his eyes meeting the shorter nurse’s, and he frowned.

“Can’t shut that.”

“What if I have to take a shit?” he said, scowling openly now.

“Do you?”

“No,” he snapped. “But in theory, I’d have to keep my door open?”

“Yeah.”

How was he meant to be feel better about living if a complete stranger was meant to watch him go to the bathroom? He sighed, turning away to lift the seat and shove down his sweatpants, feeling his face burn.

The tense silence was filled with the sound of him pissing, and when he was done he slammed the button to flush, tucking himself away and moving to the sink.

He thought about throwing a punch just to see what might happen, since these people had theoretically seen him at his worst already. It didn’t feel like there was much room left for him to do more.

He stalked back out to his room and saw his bag was on the bed, the contents emptied.

“Take a seat, we have to go through everything,” said the Latino nurse, gesturing.

Bucky sunk onto the bed, closing his eyes, covering them with his hands as he slowly lowered himself further to lie down.

-

He woke later, hearing a bird outside, and he squinted around, seeing a new nurse placing a tray of food on his bedside table.

Toast, eggs, fruit. There was enough for a few people to have and he didn’t want any of it, despite knowing he had to be hungry by now. He reached for the coffee, seeing the utensils were blunt and plastic.

He felt like a child, untrustworthy, punished by anyone who could reach him. He didn’t know where his phone was, and wondered where his smokes had got to, too. He felt violated, seeing all his belongings had more or else vanished from his room when he attempted to search for them. He found a Bible in one drawer with a couple pairs of sweatpants and boxer briefs.

“I need to shower,” he called out, to whoever would listen. The new nurse had long gone.

“You can,” came a voice, and he saw the Latino nurse there again, the hint of a smile on his face.

“You gonna watch me?” Bucky muttered, and the nurse chuckled softly.

“Yeah, I’m not going to enjoy it either, James –”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky snapped, shoving his drawer shut once more, glancing over his shoulder at the nurse. “It’s my dead dad’s name.”

The nurse put up a hand. “Alright.”

Bucky stood, crossing his arms to yank his shirt off, and he threw it aside, walking over to the bathroom as he scrubbed his face, and the nurse stepped in his way to unlock the door, letting him through a second later.

The shower inside was an open stall, and the nurse leaned against the wall while Bucky tried his best to forget he was there, scrubbing at himself, fiddling with the water.

“It’s not hot enough.”

“We don’t want you scalding yourself.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Bucky snarled, shutting off the water abruptly.

He snatched the towel he was offered, and then stalked back out to grab his clothes, pulling his sweatpants back on, circling around to find a clean shirt. He could see the guy had about the same amount of heft on him. He’d take him in a fight, and he might make a fuss, but he had a belt.

He had a belt and Bucky couldn’t stop thinking about it, his mind already racing further ahead.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he snapped, finally tugging a shirt on. “You enjoy that as much as me? I want a cigarette.”

He knew he looked like he was pacing, because he was, when he was outside and smoking in the sunlight. He’d take three steps, turn his bare heel and walk back, his feet slapping against the marble floor. There were two other men outside, an elderly black guy who went still when he recognized Bucky, his eyes shifting as he lit a cigarillo and sucked on it.

The other man was being walked around by a nurse, and he looked like he had nothing on him, pumped up to his eyeballs on something. He looked like a skeleton wrapped in yellow, papery skin, and Bucky looked away, feeling sick.

“Hey, Michael, you wanna be useful? Make me a drink,” called the elderly patient, his voice cracking. He gave a rattling cough and pounded his chest a couple times with a shriveled hand.

“As long as it’s on your tab, Frank,” the Latino nurse said, folding his arms with a smirk on his face. “You two about done with the bullshit today?”

Franklin exchanged a glance with Bucky.

“You heard about elder abuse, kid? That’s what they do around here.”

“You wrap a Corvette around a tree, Franklin, you end up in here,” Michael retorted. “And quit the shit stirring.”

Franklin gave a dismissive wave, but his glower seemed half-hearted. He dropped his voice as the moment passed.

“You who I think you are?”

“Yeah,” Bucky replied.

“How are you alive, kid?”

“I dunno,” he said. “You tried with a car?”

“My wife died,” Franklin said, shrugging.

He’d never had this kind of conversation before, and felt himself feel a little better, or at least, less ashamed. He thought of Darcy dying and knew he wouldn’t survive without her.

He felt an instant understanding with this guy he’d only known a minute, and that was wild to him. Bucky tossed Michael his lighter and turned to Franklin, offering his hand.

“Bucky.”

“Frank,” he replied, nodding at him. His handshake was firm. “Good to meet ya.”

-

He practically passed out after only half an hour outside, and missed visiting time. He was told Steve and Darcy came by, but he wasn’t responding when the nurses tried to rouse him from his bed. He ate a few mouthfuls of dinner and kept his eyes on the wall for the most part, wondering how any of this was meant to help, being alone with his thoughts.

A doctor came by and offered their name and Bucky didn’t remember it a minute later. He didn’t feel safe, but he wasn’t going to tell anyone else that.

“Your wife gave us the number of your therapist, she was planning on traveling up to see you.”

“Betty’s comin’?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Whatever he was on, it was making him muddled and lethargic. He supposed it was meant to help control him better.

He made sure to keep his next pill under his tongue, pressing it into his cheek as he waited to be left alone again, and he took a second to roll over, pretending to slump onto his side as he tucked the pill under his mattress, the bitter residue still on his tongue.

“How are you today, Barnes?”

It was Michael back for more, and Bucky rolled onto his back, lifting up a little to look at him better.

“Shitty. Didn’t see my girl.”

“Yeah, I heard something about that,” Michael said. “But you’ll level out soon.”

He wasn’t going to see Darcy. Bucky wasn’t holding out for that. He instead pointed to the bathroom door.

“I need to… bathroom.”

“Right,” Michael said with a nod, and Bucky was up, groaning a little to make it seem like he was already fading away from the pill he faked swallowing earlier.

He got to the doorway of the bathroom, brushing against Michael, smelling his deodorant. His hand shot out and he smacked his across the face, the pain stronger than he expected, his knuckles splitting on impact.

Michael stumbled back, and Bucky dove on top of him, his hands going for the keys at his belt, fumbling the carabiner, Michael’s hands reaching to pry him off.

Bucky punched him again, and he was sorry for it, because he knew Michael was in pain by how his nose began to bleed, but he had to do it, he had to…

He managed to get the belt unbuckled and he slipped it from the loops on Michael’s trousers, and he was rolled onto his back, pinned to the floor.

“Nice try, Barnes, I’ll give you that –”

“Fuck you, get off me!” Bucky gasped, the wind knocked out of him.

His fist collided with him again and then he shoved him as hard as he could with a groan, managing to get enough leverage to kick at him, thankful for all he did in the gym to get to his size. He was nearly two hundred pounds and furious.

Bucky was, if anything, a scrappy piece of shit and played dirty.

He took off, Michael’s keys and belt in hand, and he flew to the door, shoving the key inside to open it, panting as his shaking hands tried to loop the belt, feeding it through the doorway. He slammed the door shut, knowing he had seconds he couldn’t spare, tightening the belt as he heard Michael try to get up once more, dazed and confused...

His pulse grew richer as the leather closed around him, his breath thinning, and he closed his eyes, feeling his whole body begin to tingle.

The oxygen was leaving him, and soon his heartbeat would follow, and then –

Michael yanked the keys from the door and Bucky could hear shouting, Michael’s and someone else beyond the shut door that then sprang open.

“Jesus Christ!”

“Get him up, get it off him –”

Bucky struggled, kicking out, then threw another punch, managing to hit the other nurse in the face. He ducked and shot out from under someone’s arm, scrambling out the door and into the hallway.

He stumbled, taking off with the belt still wrapped around his neck. He broke into a run, weaving past a random girl who gave a squeal at the sight of him, backing into the wall.

He heard a voice over the PA, and his eyes darted around, to find some other source, and he ran down another hallway, spa music playing overhead.

There was shouting surrounding him as he raced on, down another corridor, trying each door, unable to open anything without a key.

He was knocked off his feet, hitting the floor a second later.

-

He woke in his bed, the spike of a headache making him groan softly, and he rose a hand to touch his face, but couldn’t.

He looked down at his arms, seeing there were straps covering them so they were bound to the bars on either side of his bed.

“What the fuck?” he muttered.

His eyes snapped to the nurse sitting on a chair beside him, one with a scowl on their face they didn’t bother hiding.

“Lemme out.”

“You broke Michael’s nose, probably gave him a concussion, too,” the nurse said. “I don’t care who you are, you’re rotting here.”

“What?”

Bucky felt a sob bubble up and he jolted, feeling a hand on his chest he reached for, his hands free. He saw Steve staring down at him, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Buddy, it’s me.”

“Jesus,” Bucky gasped, his head swimming. He clutched Steve’s wrist, trying to tell himself he had to be real because he could feel the heat of him.

His arms weren’t tied. There weren’t bars on his bed. He sat up, Steve moving back to give him space. He rubbed his eyes.

“What time is it?”

“Four.”

He must have slept another day away. He leaned over to fit his fingers under the mattress and the pill was gone. They were onto him now. He bit his lip.

“Buck, it was a bad dream.”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, putting his face in his hands.

Steve rubbed his shoulder again and again, attempting to soothe him.

“You wanna go outside, stretch your legs?”

Bucky nodded dumbly. He leaned on him along the way, until they reached the rocking chairs and Bucky sat down in one, taking a cigarette from one of the nurses that followed them out.

“I heard about Michael.”

“He okay?” Bucky said, unable to look Steve in the eye.

He blew out smoke away from him out of habit. Though Steve had overcome his asthma, he still didn’t like exhaling directly at him.

“Yeah, he’s fine.”

There was a beat and Bucky dreaded what could come next, a wave of sorrow cresting. His eyes stung but he didn’t think he would cry. He was fucking exhausted, somehow too tired to even weep.

“Buck, what happened?”

“Does Darce know?” Bucky asked, sucking on his cigarette.

“No,” Steve murmured.

“I don’t want her coming by,” Bucky added. “Don’t want her to see me like this.”

“She’s seen you like this before.”

He leveled Steve’s gaze, shaking his head slowly.

“I can’t do it, Stevie. Can’t tell her how I’m really feelin’.”

“Buck, she _knows_ it’s bad.”

Bucky thought of their vows, in sickness and in health. What if he never changed, though? Wouldn’t it be worse to have never known him being better than he was now? He should be happy, but his brain just couldn’t manage it somehow, like he wasn’t built for contentment.

Even when he was first falling for Darcy, he felt out of control. When she was pregnant with Nats, he was delicate, like he was covered in scar tissue. He seemed to only get worse with age.

“Okay, Buck,” Steve said eventually, and Bucky was grateful that he wasn’t pressing him.

He wanted to leave. He smoked in silence as Steve sat with him, and they watched a nurse walking a patient. Frank walked out at one point, raising a hand to wave that Bucky returned. Bucky kept looking over at the nurses, his eyes swinging around to check where the cameras were.

“Anyone talking about me outside?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“All bad?”

“Pretty much,” Steve murmured, and Bucky was relieved he wasn’t bullshitting him. “RKB is trying to get Wanda to bring you back, I think they’re in denial.”

“About how sick I am?” Bucky rasped, and Steve looked him in the eye, his throat bobbing.

“Yeah, Buck.”

Bucky glanced away, lighting another cigarette.

“Where’re you stayin’?”

“Little house ten minutes away,” Steve said. He cleared his throat. “Darcy’s there with Nats. She meant to bring you Nats –”

“But I was passed out.”

“Yeah.”

Thinking of Nats now, he felt ill. She was in for a lifetime of disappointment and pain with him as her father. If he was like this when she was a baby, he’d be a nightmare when she was older, knowing that she could feel the shame he radiated with.

Maybe she’d change her name to Lewis, to be separate from him.

-

Betty wore a visitors sticker on her blazer, brought her pad of paper to a little office with a couch and a box of Kleenex in its corner, her leg crossed over the other while Bucky leaned back with his thighs apart, feeling sluggish.

He was wearing the same outfit three days in a row, his beard growing out as his hair was sticking up and annoying him. He wished he could shear it all off. He wished for a lot of things he was stuck not having, because he was stuck in there.

Betty seemed to read his attitude from the first breath she took in front of him.

“What are you feeling?”

“I feel… like shit,” he muttered. He picked at a loose thread on his hoodie sleeve. “I’m pissed off and I’m sad and I’m lonely. Fuckin’ as always.”

“Steve said you haven’t seen Darcy in a few days,” Betty said, so patient.

She was a fucking saint. Bucky swallowed.

“Ah, well… y’know,” he said, sucking in a breath. His eyes watered and he didn’t cry, just let the tears fall naturally, wiping them away roughly with his sleeve. “Can’t stand her anymore, I guess.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Bucky,” Betty said, and she stopped writing, their eyes meeting. She uncrossed her legs, leaning forward.

Bucky sat up straighter, letting his eyes drop to her chest.

“Maybe I’m tryin’ to get close enough to bend you over something,” he murmured, and she went still, their eyes locking.

There was a tense few seconds and she finally looked away.

“You’re not an asshole, Bucky,” she whispered. “You’re just trying so hard to be. I know you love Darcy more than anyone else, you’ve told me that countless times before.”

Bucky felt the wave of fresh shame, since he’d tried to cheapen Betty with the lecherous way he tried to glare down at her cleavage. He moved back in his seat until his head brushed the wall and he stared at the light fixture above.

“I know you feel so much you can’t see a way out, other than completely destroying yourself –”

Bucky closed his eyes briefly with a soft sigh.

“- but it’s a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

Bucky scowled at her. “It ain’t a temporary problem, my dad ain’t ever comin’ back.”

Betty’s lips parted and she swallowed, backtracking.

“And my solution works, for what I need it for. If I don’t exist, I don’t have to feel pain anymore.”

Betty looked down at her paper.

“Bucky…”

“I don’t want you anymore,” he added. “Get the fuck outta here. We’re done. You can’t cure me.”

“It’s not my job to cure, Bucky.”

“Then what use are you to me?” he snarled, standing up.

He didn’t wait for her, going straight to the door and knocked on it, before the nurse opened it to let him out.

-

He was thankful for the pill that knocked him out. He didn’t like being around anyone, except maybe Frank when they smoked together outside.

Since seeing Betty, he felt something break off inside him. He was too angry to bother hiding how he felt anymore. This place was a prison, and he was done.

He wasn’t able to discharge himself without someone to take him away, and he knew neither Steve nor Darcy would agree to it.

He waited until he and Frank were alone one morning, for all of two minutes when another patient needed a second pair of hands to help them out of their wheelchair to shuffle around in the sun. It was a woman Bucky recognized as some washed out Hollywood starlet from decades ago. The only thing that seemed to have changed about her was her wrinkles.

“Frank,” he murmured, and the older man glanced his way.

“What’s up?”

“I need a favor.”

“Uh-oh.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You need to distract the staff while I go for the wall.”

Frank slumped slightly in disbelief, blowing out smoke.

“Kid, you’re not gonna get that far, if you can even manage to get over it.”

“Worth tryin’,” Bucky said. “Pretend you’re havin’ a heart attack or somethin’.”

“And what am I supposed to tell them when they figure out I helped you?”

“Tell ‘em I threatened ya. They already know I’m violent.”

He didn’t waste any more time, breaking off to make his way over to the far wall. Frank didn’t do anything except watch him and smoke, while Bucky met the wall and looked around, trying to find a spot he could fit his foot into.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

He jumped, unable to reach the top. It was way too high. Maybe if he was as tall as Lenny was, but even then, there was so little strength left in him to lift himself up.

There came a yell:

“HEY! Are you fucking kidding me?”

It was Michael, of course. Bucky jumped again as he came racing over, and then dashed further down the wall, seeing a broken tile. He grabbed it, scraping his hand in the process, and he swung upward, gritting his teeth as he pulled himself up, swinging a leg over the ledge.

“Barnes!”

Bucky flashed a smile and he slipped down the other side, landing in dirt, his knees taking the brunt of it.

“Fuck,” he whispered again.

The rocks were sharp under his feet, but he didn’t have a choice, hearing footsteps in the distance as Michael and another nurse appeared in a little side door.

He broke into a run, his heartrate skyrocketing, spurring him on. He hadn’t run like this in years, not since he first played the Winter Soldier, but that was a movie set. This was real life, with cars in the distance beyond some trees, and he wondered how he was going to hide with the face he had, with no money to promise anyone for their help if he asked for it.

They were gaining on him, chasing him down the hill, through the visitors’ parking lot and toward the gate security.

Bucky hadn’t thought of that, and cursed himself for his lack of foresight. He was such a stereotype, impulsive, entitled and mentally ill. He was a grown man running away in broad daylight, and he was doing this more or less sober, too.

“Barnes, c’mon. Barnes.”

He’d stopped among the cars, looking around, and he bent at the waist, panting.

“I wanna fucking die.”

“I know,” Michael said. “I know, man.”

He reached for him, taking him by the arm. The other nurse stayed separate but still guarded Bucky as they made their way back toward the facility.

“You got some speed on you,” Michael said, sounding out of breath but vaguely impressed. “Shit, if you didn’t make movies, you could’ve been an athlete.”

He wasn’t left alone, not even with Steve visiting hours later. He knew it had to be that way, but it didn’t stop him feeling helpless even as people were trying to help him.

Steve hugged him tight before he left. Bucky knew he’d gone too far, and Steve wasn’t going to spare him from Darcy knowing the truth.

-

She arrived during visiting time, and Frank departed when he realized it was her coming over to find him.

Bucky was glad she hadn’t brought Nats. She moved toward him, and he tilted his head automatically toward hers as she lowered to kiss him. She avoided his lips, which meant he was in trouble. He only got a cheek kiss instead of one on the mouth when she was mad but still managing to keep herself in check.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” she replied. “Can we go somewhere quiet?”

He thought of when it first broke that he and Darcy were dating, after they went to Cannes together. Her management and friends were calling her up, telling her about the massive mistake she was making, and he wondered if she thought of their warnings more these days, when she was so far away from their penthouse, and she was raising Nats with Steve in the little house down the road.

He nodded, rising from his chair. He took the hand she offered, his guts churning. They walked inside, a nurse giving them a little nod along the way.

“We just need some privacy,” he said to Michael, who was stationed outside his room.

“Okay.”

Darcy gave a little smile, reaching out to touch Michael’s arm, not unlike how she’d touch Steve. She was so good, and Bucky had tried to break the poor guy’s nose the other day.

It must have shown on his face, because when they were alone once more, Darcy let go of his hand as he sat down on the bed.

“You’re mad at me.”

“What?” he grunted.

“You’re so mad at me you can’t even look at me,” she whispered.

He did then, seeing her eyes were fiercer and brimming with tears already.

“I’m mad I’m stuck here. And I’m mad because you’re lyin’ to me.”

“I’m not sleeping with Steve,” Darcy said.

“Didn’t say that,” he whispered, shaking his head a little. “You’re lying because you’re not telling me how hurt you are.”

Her arms fell to her sides.

“Bucky…”

“I want to die and I hate you. I hate you.”

“You don’t,” she said, but her voice had changed again. “You love me. And I love you, and Nats loves you, too. We missed you, we want you back –”

“How could you put me in here?” he hissed, and her eyes widened.

“You tried to kill yourself!”

Finally she’d said it out loud, and she sucked in a breath to fortify herself.

“You went into Stephen’s cabinet and took anything you could get your hands on. _After_ you drank a bottle of vodka.”

“So then why can’t you just let me… fucking die?” he snapped, and Darcy balled her hands into fists.

“You don’t get to walk out on us like that! Not without me fighting for you,” she snapped. “And I don’t care if you leave me over this, trying to stop you – I love you no matter what. No matter what, Bucky.”

Bucky glanced up at the ceiling. “You’re making this shit up.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re makin’ this shit up, Darcy. You can’t act with me, not when cameras ain’t around –”

Their voices broke into yells.

"Fuck you!"

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you!” Darcy snarled. “You are a lazy piece of shit. You’re fucking lazy –”

“You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!” Bucky yelled. He pointed to the door. “Before you, I never had to worry about bringin’ a kid into the world, I never had to care about the girl I was fuckin’ –”

“Oh, and you were so much better without me?” Darcy snapped, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t have to care about my kid growin’ up with a shitty father. You did that to me –”

“And you did that to me, too!” Darcy yelled. “I’m stuck with you for for- _fucking_ -ever now, because of Nats! And you stopped trying.”

She deflated, beginning to sob.

“I _wanted_ babies with you. I wanted to be married to you, and make movies with you. I wanted you to be happy and I wanted to make you _happy_.”

“Darcy…”

Her chest heaved and he felt it all, everything he’d been pushing back. He crumpled, beginning to cry as he reached for her, sinking to the floor to wrap his arms around her middle, burying his face in her tummy.

“Darcy…”

There was a knock and the door opened, but Bucky kept himself hidden, Darcy’s hands coming down to rest on his shoulder and in his hair.

“We’re okay,” she rasped, and then the door was shut again, the silence that followed too heavy for Bucky to handle.

He hurt all over, weeping with abandon, wailing with it as Darcy bent to kiss his head. He still wanted to hurt himself, he still wanted to stop feeling so much all the time.

After a few minutes, he managed to catch himself, reeling back, swiping his face with his hands, standing up to pull her into his chest.

She stumbled but he caught her, tilting her head to meet his and he kissed her, Darcy’s moan muffled as he sucked the breath out of her.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, pulling back. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry –”

“No, none o’ that,” he cut in, shaking his head. “I’m a piece of shit. I don’t deserve either of my girls, or Stevie. I don’t, I don’t deserve you, I ain’t good enough –”

“Bucky, is that why – is that why you took all the pills?”

He nodded, feeling the admission run through him. It was what he couldn’t tell Betty.

“No offense, baby, but your taste in men is fuckin’ terrible,” he whispered, and Darcy’s chin wobbled, and she shook her head.

He kissed her again, turning them around so he pushed her into the bed, her mouth chasing his, her breath hitching. He moved on instinct, needing her so much he was shaking in desperation, shoving down his sweatpants just enough to get his cock out, his hands then reaching to pull her leggings down.

With her leggings still hanging off of one ankle, her underwear pushed to the side, their foreheads pressed together, he filled her to the hilt, Darcy’s gasp ringing in his ears.

The urgency of it made him only last a minute, and he was emptying deep inside her with a bitten back sob, their tongues still tangling as he slumped on top of her.

He sat down on the floor, pulling his pants back on, staring up at her, seeing what he’d done, and he fell onto his back.

As Darcy left sometime later, Bucky was cornered by Michael.

“You can’t have sex in your room.”

“I know,” Bucky said, but he didn’t know how to otherwise explain it, it was like they had to get it out of their system to move on.

“Don’t do it again. Not even if she’s your wife.”

-

The people he didn’t want to hurt anymore, they were the ones that kept him pushing on somehow. When Steve went back to New York, he saw Nats for the first time in weeks.

She seemed bigger, and he knew then he hadn’t thought anything through, probably not once in months and months.

She needed him, because she was his kid, and leaving her behind was a crime. When Bucky was handed her, he breathed in the baby scent of her crown, cuddling her in his lap in his chair as Darcy’s hand ran through his hair.

“You missed Dadda, huh, Nats?” Darcy murmured, and Bucky let out a breathless chuckle, kissing Nat’s head.

“Daddy missed you, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I don’t make sense without you.”

-

He could manage to forget other things when it was just his family and him. With Christmas approaching, Betty suggested he spend it with his family, to test the waters.

“Are you thinking about hurting yourself?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But… _doing_ that is worse, I think, than makin’ myself not.”

He was afraid of pain, he was afraid of living, but he knew if he died Nats would spend her life looking for him, trying to seek solace among the darkness like he had after his father died.

-

He stopped by Frank’s room on his way out.

“My niece is coming to bail me out,” Frank said, clasping Bucky’s hand in a firm shake, pulling him into a half-hug.

“Look after yourself, alright?” Bucky whispered, and Frank nodded, winking at him.

“And good luck to you, too, you crazy son of a bitch…”

-

On Christmas, Nats played with her wrapping paper instead of the toys she’d been given, and her nap came by sooner after she wore herself out.

Darcy crowded Bucky in the kitchen after he put Nats down for a nap, and he was tugged into the bedroom with Darcy’s soft giggles filling his ears.

After, when he was lying on his side, he watched as Darcy returned from the bathroom, naked and glowing.

“Hey, guess what.”

“What,” he murmured, smiling up at her.

“I love you,” she said.

“Love you, too,” he replied.

They went another round, Darcy in his lap, riding him with his hands gripping her ass, his eyes darting from her chest to her face and then back again.

He lasted longer, Darcy gripping him tight as she came, and he followed after when a sigh, finishing inside her. It was the habit now, and they hadn’t really talked about it.

“Darce…”

His face was resting on her chest, and he lifted his head slightly to look her in the eye, and she brushed his hair out of his face.

“Yeah?”

“When are you ovulating?”

She blinked a couple times. “In a few days.”

He nodded, something stirring inside him.

“Y’know, we don’t have to. Have more,” he said. “If you don’t wanna, that’s okay.”

“But what if I do? And what if I lost it?”

Bucky bit his lip. “Then… then we’ll get through that, too, right? ‘Cause you’re the strongest person I know –”

“Bucky,” Darcy said, sounding touch but disbelieving.

“You’re my dream girl for a reason, alright?” he said, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “So… whatever you want, I’ll do it, baby. I’ll do it for you.”

She kissed him then, tender and heady, and she was reaching for him again, Bucky’s blood beginning to rush once more…

**Author's Note:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


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